


Make My Mind

by junkster



Category: Workaholics (TV)
Genre: Best Friends, Bisexuality, Drinking Games, Friends With Benefits, Hot Tub, M/M, i love these idiots
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-25
Updated: 2020-06-25
Packaged: 2021-03-03 22:15:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,428
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24882919
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/junkster/pseuds/junkster
Summary: Adam's been lured into another cougar's den of sexual depravity, leaving Anders and Blake by themselves. In the event of trying to be the best dude-husbands they can without their third and entertain themselves, they turn to drinking games. Drinking games areenlightening.
Relationships: Anders Holmvik/Karl Hevacheck (mentioned), Blake Henderson/Anders Holmvik, Blake Henderson/Karl Hevacheck (mentioned
Comments: 6
Kudos: 18





	Make My Mind

  


  
  
“Pretty sure it’s not cool for two guys to play drinking games alone in a hot tub, y’know?” Anders says, sighing as he reaches for his glass. “Why aren’t we just playing Mortal Kombat and eating pizza like two normal dudes would on a Friday night?”

Blake balances his glass on one of his upturned palms, just to see if he can. “Because it’s not the same without Adam,” he says firmly. ‘And because we have no weed thanks to Karl being AWOL at one of his weird hide-and-seek games at the quarry, and because I need to get wasted, Ders! Okay? It's been a very stressful week!”

“Okay, dude, chill out,” Anders soothes, that tone of voice that Blake’s always naturally responded to despite himself, a raft of comforting calm in the ocean of weird that is their lives. “I just don’t understand the drinking game part of it, I guess. Why not just drink?”

Blake’s known Anders for three years and two months now, and he’s still kind of an enigma in a lot of ways - a lot more than Adam, anyway, whose simple hedonistic tendencies mesh a little better with Blake's own. Like those times when Anders actually _wants_ to make something of himself at work, which, to Blake, is the absolute worst idea in the world. Incomprehensible, really.

He doesn’t voice the fact that he and Adam have played this game on their own so many times he knows every single one of Adam’s secrets inside-out. Anders is paranoid enough already about them leaving him out of stuff.

“I just think it’ll be fun. There’s a lotta stuff I don’t know about you, man.” 

"I guess it’ll take our minds off the Adam-sitch for a while, anyway.”

“Exactly. Tomorrow we can make a plan how to get him back. In the meantime, I just wanna relax and get drunk. You start us off, bro.”

“Sure.” Anders sighs again and tips his head back to look up at the darkening sky. “I'm'a start with a tame one, okay? Never have I ever smoked pot at school.”

“Really, you never did?” Blake asks as he takes a drink, tequila burning his throat.

“I didn’t smoke at _all_ ‘til I met you guys. Kinda frowned upon by swimming coaches, y'know?”

“My god. We really did save you, huh?”

Anders huffs a quiet laugh and it makes Blake grin. The Ders he’d first met at college had come such a long way since then. 

“Okay, my turn. Never have I ever pretended to take a hit just to look cool in front of my friends,” he tries, but Anders just looks at him, eyebrow raised in challenge. Blake's grin fades. “C’mon dude, drink! You’ve totally done that, like, a hundred times.”

“I do it because I don’t want to take a hit sometimes, that's all. I’m a control freak, Blake, you know that about me.”

And yeah, Blake absolutely, one hundred percent knows it. Anders is one of the biggest control freaks he’s ever met; of the three of them, he’s the most wary, the most cautious, the most pessimistic. 

“Sometimes I just don’t wanna lose my head,” Anders continues. "It freaks me out. It doesn't feel good."

“So why don’t you just tell us that, man?”

“Because you guys make me feel like a killjoy, always telling me how old and boring I am! I just…” Anders pauses, frowns, then reaches for his glass. His shoulders sag in resignation. “Sure, okay. Sometimes I do just wanna fit in with you guys, I guess. You got me.”

“Ders, I don’t care if you don’t take a toke, man! Okay, I like to see you relax and chill, but it’s your body, dude. Your body, your choice. I respect that.”

“Thanks, man. I appreciate you saying that.”

“C’mon, then. Let's go. Hit me with your best shot, Pat Benatar.”

“Alright.” Anders goes quiet for a long moment, turning his glass between his palms as he frowns down at the water in thought. “Okay, you ready to get into some stuff, man?”

“I was born ready, Ders. Let’s get juicy, here.”

Anders nods, with a slightly bemused frown at the turn of phrase. He lifts his glass closer to his mouth, considers for a long moment, then:

“Never have I ever...kissed Karl,” he says quietly. 

And then he drinks. 

He _drinks_.

Blake sits up straight so fast he narrowly misses dropping his own glass into the water, a quick grab saving it as he stares at Anders in disbelief. This is...wait… _what!?_

“Dude!” he says, raising his own glass with slippery fingers to drink. “When was this? He never told me!”

“About a year ago. You remember that girl, The Darkness? Long story short, she made us do some things I’m not proud of.”

“Jesus.”

“What about you?”

"Oh, you get high in a dude’s van enough times, things’re gonna happen, believe me. We've made out a hundred times, probably. Wait, though, wait, wait…" Blake holds up a finger, as the reality of Anders' previous statement dawns on him. "You said ‘some things’?”

Anders is smiling now as he leans forward to grab the bottle, pouring them both another glassful. He’s got Blake on the back foot now.

Blake tucks his hair back behind his ear and, after a deep breath, says: “Okay. Never have I ever had a _handy_ from Karl…”

Anders eyes him for a long moment. Blake eyes him right back, like it's the fucking gunfight at the O.K. Corral.

There’s a pause as they both waiting to see what the other will do. And then...

They drink at the same time.

They _both_ drink.

“Holy shit,” Blake says quietly after swallowing, his entire world shaken. “Same night?” he asks in wonder.

“Yeah. After she made off with the drugs. I was actually about to kick him out for ruining my night but it turns out he’s pretty persuasive.”

Blake’s not sure if his eyes can possibly get any wider. “Dude, I can't believe this! You’ve always hated Karl!”

“I don’t _hate_ him, I just think he’s a trashy idiot. Doesn’t mean I’m immune to his charms.”

“Oh, he’s a smooth talker,” Blake concurs. Karl is, despite appearances, one of the smartest people he knows. His agony aunt. A confidante. A great friend. He’s fun and generous and sensitive and the back of his van is one of Blake’s happy places, a place for listening to Zeppelin and making out while doped up to the eyeballs. The fact that his brain is now filled with the image of Karl and Anders together is more than a little distracting. “Over the pants or under?” he asks

“Uh...we were both naked, actually.”

Blake squints at Anders’ face under the dim glow of the fairy lights as though he might be pranking him, making it all up. Anders just meets his eyes with a serene kind of gaze.

“You had sex with Karl,” Blake realises faintly. “With _Karl_.”

“I mean, not fully.”

“Just the handy?”

“You really wanna know the gory details huh?”

And yeah, Blake really, really does. He nods eagerly. 

Anders lowers his voice a little because they _do_ have neighbours, despite generally not giving a crap what they think. “We made out a little. I sucked on his nipple rings. We showered together, and then we sat side by side on my bed and jerked each other off. That was it.”

"Did you come?" Blake whispers, unable to tear his eyes away, impressed as hell by this entirely new and previously unheard of side of his friend.

Anders nods, a look on his face that say he abso _lutely_ spunked his brains out. Blake feels this weird, slithery sensation in his gut, and it takes him a moment to realise it's jealousy, though exactly who it's for isn't quite clear.

“You’ve never done anything together since then?”

“Nah. It was a heat of the moment thing, I guess. Plus he usually smells like dumpsters and bong water, so...”

“You’ve blown my mind, Ders. I thought you were one of the straightest dudes I’ve ever met!”

Anders shrugs, looking down at the water again with a wry kind of look in his eyes. “Blake, I have five posters in my room and _three_ of them are of dudes.”

Blake narrows his eyes as he brings Anders’ bedroom to mind, sees Gosling, Foxx, Leto...“I thought you just wanted to look like them, man! I thought they were, y’know - workout inspiration!”

“I mean, that too. But I’m totally bi, dude. I thought you'd have guessed by now.”

“I didn’t know,” Blake admits, his mind kind of reeling now, and not just from the tequila. “You know you could've told us, right?”

Anders shrugs a shoulder. “It was just easier to go after girls with you guys than bring it up. That’s what you and Adam want, right? Big-titted babes?”

Aside from the bubbling of the water, it feels like everything goes still suddenly, Blake’s pulse quickening as he encourages coyly: “Come on, Ders. You wanna find stuff out, you gotta play the game, man.”

Anders smiles, a quirk of amusement as he nods. “Fine. Okay. Never have I ever wanted to make out with a dude that _wasn’t_ Karl.”

Blake laughs suddenly, a reaction to the booze and the absolute, total weirdness of the whole situation, his limbs starting to feel loose and floaty in the water, head a little fuzzy. He follows Anders’ suit and drinks the last of his glass, wincing as it burns his throat. He's gonna do something stupid, and he knows it, and he feels giddy at the possibility of a massive crash and burn scenario, for some reason.

“Got me there, bud,” he says, voice raw. “Of course I have!”

“Who?”

“Well, everyone at the office, for starters.”

“God, please don't say Bill…”

“Bill, Tez...Waymond and his sweater vests. Knitwear is a very real turn on for me.” 

“You’re a sick man.”

Blake grins and holds his glass out for another refill, watching as Anders stretches to pick it up; watching as the muscles shift around his shoulder blades; watching the water lap at his skin. Objectively, he’s always known Anders was a handsome dude, especially when he's not in the boring, too-groomed armour that is his office look. Tall, strong, perfect teeth and pretty eyes, hair that - when it isn’t being forced into submission by hair gel - is soft and wavy. He's ogled, sure, but he’s always tried to keep it at just that, unwilling to sacrifice one of the best friendships he’s ever had for what he’d always presumed would be unreciprocated ogling. Maybe he's brought Anders' to mind a few times while cranking one out (just a few times), and maybe he's occasionally, very occasionally daydreamed about a threesome with his dude husbands, but - 

“Blazer?” Anders says softly, startling him out of his thoughts. He’s holding the bottle up, waiting for Blake to raise his glass. 

“Okay, so you're number one!” he blurts out, then adds quickly, "Or two...one or two, I guess, it doesn't actually matter which way 'round..."

Anders laughs. “Excuse me?”

“I’ve thought about kissing you. Kind of a lot, if I’m honest."

“Really,” Anders says, and it’s less of a question, more a statement of uncertainty and doubt. A 'yeah, right' kinda thing.

“You and Adam, actually. One and two. I mean, you know how many times I’ve told you guys you’re handsome!”

“Actually, it’s Adam you call handsome, not me. Not to my face, anyway.”

“Well the little guy’s a massive ball of insecurity, Ders, what can I say. I have to do what I can to keep him from slipping into Sadam territory, y'know, and you’re supposed to be the relatively stable one of the three of us. And all this time, trying to ignore you doing pull-ups and swimming like a gorgeous fish-man creature and fighting dogs with your bare hands and keeping me and Adam safe...all this time I thought you were this big, hetero jock, just flaunting it all in front of me. Look but don't touch, Blazer, cos the big guy is off limits.”

"I mean, to be fair, I didn't know you were into guys either."

And yeah, Blake can see that. He doesn't hide the fact that he finds men attractive, but he's not exactly forthcoming about whether that's just an appreciation of aesthetics or whether they make his dick hard. Or both. "I guess we're just sexually fluid, huh? Modern men."

"Oh, absolutely. We're the modernest of men, for sure."

"Can I ask you one more question, man, without the tequila? I'm starting to feel a little fuzzy here."

"Sure. I'm listening."

"Aside from Karl, have you fucked any other dudes?"

It makes Blake's pulse race, even just verbalising it. He's always known Anders to be the slightly more experienced of the three of them, thanks to his ability to act relatively normal around girls compared to his own bumbling shyness and Adam's complete lack of filter, but to find out he's fooled around with guys as well is an eye-opener.

"Just one. I had a boyfriend in my first year at college, before you guys arrived."

"No way...seriously? What happened to him?"

Anders stretches his left arm out along the edge of the tub and drums his fingers on the tiles. "He was on the team. It was good for a while, a couple of months, but...things kinda turned messy with the whole 'boner in the showers' fiasco."

Realisation dawns, unwelcome. "Fuck. You were hard because of _that_ guy?"

"Yeah. But he didn't want anyone to know we were dating so he pretended he hadn't just had his hand down my speedos and laughed at me along with everyone else. Absolutely one of the worst days of my life."

"What a cowardly asshole!" Blake says vehemently, and suddenly it's becoming super clear why Anders was so, so uptight and angry when they first met him. "My god, Ders. He ruined your relationship _and_ your swim-team goals?"

"Yeah. Fucked me in more ways than one, I guess."

Blake gapes. Partly because he's outraged that someone could treat one of his best friends like that, but mostly because he's pretty sure Anders has just admitted to being fucked, like, _in the ass_ , and Blake's brain is hitching like an old dial-up internet connection, the thought of Ders being that vulnerable with someone, an image that buffers, and buffers...

And then Anders says quietly, “Blake, I’m gonna kiss you, okay man?”

Which absolutely yanks him out of his head, looking across with wild eyes because he's really not sure if he just heard what he heard, but Anders is shifting closer to him, right up against his side until he feels his left knee press to Anders' right and Anders is taking his glass off him, putting it up over the side and out of the way.

"Stop me right now if you don't wanna do this," Anders murmurs, his left hand coming up to turn Blake's face towards him. "Like...right now."

Blake's brain is a massive fuzz of static, his heart pulsing hard in his throat as he gazes into big, serious blue-green eyes and god, it’s been so long since anyone’s touched him in a way that wasn’t shoving or high-fives, just gentle hands cupping his face, fingers cradling the back of his head, the warmth of being close to someone. Someone he actually cares about. Fuck. Butterflies bat against the walls of his chest as he says dazedly: "I'm not gonna stop you, Ders."

It's been so long since he's had any kind of action, and _fuck_ , he's hungry for it. They turn in closer to each other and Anders kisses him softly, just that first press of lips against his own sending shocks of _want_ straight through his body; making his skin prickle. He's usually high when he kisses Karl, but now he's just a little drunk instead and it's different, less like moving through molasses and more real: he tastes the tequila on Anders' lips, catches the sweet scent of the hair foam he's clearly stolen from Adam again (and that gives him a little thrill, too, almost like he's kissing both of them).

Anders tilts his head to deepen the kiss and his eyelashes flit briefly against Blake's cheek. Blake's a sucker for romance, always has been, and it makes his heart happy that they're sitting there in their hot tub under a night sky and strings of softly coloured lights, alone in their little oasis of _home._

It’s as Anders’ thumb runs slowly across the pulse in his throat that Blake's dick decides to get involved, a lurching jump in his gut as heat pools and hairs rise at the back of his neck. It’s all he can do not to climb into Anders’ lap, itching to bury his fingers in soft, curling hair. He breaks the kiss, bumping their foreheads together as they both breathe a little hard and fast, his eyes closed, his world narrowed down to warm, swirling water and the strong fingers brushing his throat. He looks down between their bodies, follows the lines of Anders' collar bones down, pictures the scar on his side, feels a lurch of panic when he thinks - for the hundredth time - of how Ders nearly died that day.

"Ders," he breathes softly, "we're gonna have to get outta this hot tub before I do something stupid, man, because in the space of, like, twenty minutes, I've gone from sitting next to one of my best friends in the whole world to sitting next to a dude whose dick I really, really wanna touch, and that's kinda new for me, and maybe it's the tequila and maybe it's just because I'm desperate for sex, but -"

"Blake," Anders interrupts him, letting go of him and holding up a hand to stop his flow of words. He waits for Blake to lean back and give him full, undivided attention before saying: "Why shouldn't we?"

Blake has to fight the urge to get up and run suddenly, the weight of terror and excitement like a band around his chest, crushing the air out of his lungs. "Seriously?" he says, and it's a little more choked than he'd like to admit.

Anders' expression darkens slightly at his hesitation. "Wait...you're not pranking me, are you? Dude, if I find out Karl's hiding in the bushes with a camera I'm gonna -"

"No!" Blake exlaims, reaching out to grab Anders' hand as he starts looking around - that paranoia, again. "No, Ders, this is fucking real, man. I'm just terrified. Of screwing up."

"Man, I'm not expecting you to turn tricks, okay?" Anders says, and it's reassuring, the way he squeezes Blake's fingers between his own. He lowers his voice again as he adds softly and shrugs: "Just...let's have fun."

"Fun I can do. Can we take it inside, though?" Blake asks breathlessly, eyes wandering from Anders' mouth to the shadowy blue-green of his eyes.

"My room?"

"One hundred percent your room," Blake insists, because Anders’ bed is the cleanest, nicest smelling, most comfortable bed in the house. If they're going anywhere, it's Ders' room. Turns out Anders is probably the cleanest, nicest smelling, most comfortable person Blake’ll ever have had the good fortune to share a bed with, too.

Anders regards him carefully for a moment, asking quietly, "One more thing - you're not drunk, are you? I'm not pulling a Weinstein here?"

Blake shakes his head vehemently, and just to prove it, holds his arm out and touches his index finger to his nose, grinning when he manages it first try. It makes Anders grin too and that makes Blake even more certain about what he wants.

"You don't think it's wrong of us to do this without Adam, do you?" he asks.

"What, the guy who's probably knee-deep in snatch right now? No way, man. He chose what he chose."

"Good point. Why should he be the one getting all the action, right?"

"Right. Tomorrow," Ders says, a promise, "if he hasn't made his way back, we'll rescue Adam. Tonight...let's go inside, grab some more booze, and see if we can't reenact that one scene from Moonlight."

"Oh, great movie," Blake concedes, and starts to wobble to his feet slowly. " _Great_ movie. Jesus, dude, I am _fully_ torqued right now, can you pass me that towel?..."

  


  
  


**Author's Note:**

> I _miss_ these guys.


End file.
